


Yet Another Five Nights At Freddy's FanFic

by Glendavid



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glendavid/pseuds/Glendavid
Summary: A small town with dark secrets. A retired soldier and Ex-con trying to make it in the world. A failing pizza restaurant looking for new management. A killer on the loose.Thomas has been living a life that's slowly killing him. Soon, abusive parents and a dead end job at the failing 'Chica's Party World' will be the least of his troubles as new modifications to the springlock suits bring with them unintended side effects, and a grizzly string of murders. He'll have to survive his own head before he can survive the lethal animatronics.





	1. Spring days

**I** t always started with screaming.

Thomas slowly drug himself to a stand as the muffled sounds grew louder and louder still from downstairs. Things were being thrown and the distinct clatter of glass shattering against the ground had grown as familiar as the spring rains that crashed down outside his window. He didn't want to go to work today anymore then he had any other day the last year.

Pulling them off the pile on the floor of his dull gray room Thomas slowly tossed on his uniform. Wearing it felt almost as bad as the suit at work, though to be fair it was a lot safer. He ran a hand across his forehead, shoving a small stack of past due medical bills to the ground off his bathroom sink with the other. "Maybe if I just ignore it they'll go away?" Asked to the faded poster he'd plastered beside the cracked mirror.

He'd been worn down to the bone, ready to crack under the pressure. There were thick lines under his eyes from the 16 hour workdays, the life already faded from his blue eyes. "Ah hell that a gray hair?" A light pause. "Too young to be old already."

Shoving the thoughts out of his head, Thomas attempted to go about the daily routine, even as a downstairs window crashed, expletives hurled often as the silverware. He just put on a record and cranked up the volume till it all faded to background noise. The young mans voice echoed with the song as it rattled the windows allowing him a brief solace from the world, even with the loud pounding on the floor. Black hair slicked down with a liberal application of Pomade only to be hidden beneath his work hat, that dumb chicken glaring at him in the reflection.

The first song wasn't even over and he was already headed for the window. "No way in hell I'm heading into that mess." He spoke in a disappointed voice throwing the window open, allowing that cool air to flow into the room, along with a bit of the rain. "Plenty of time to worry about that later."

Stepping out onto the rain slicked roof, for a moment, he just stood there taking in his surroundings. Old houses, families, the quiet suburban life. It didn't suit him in the slightest, too quiet. Then again after he got back there weren't many places that could be loud enough for his taste. Making his way to the edge he took a quick hop to a nearby branch.

That Tulip tree out front was an eyesore, but it made hopping down to ground level a breeze, even in the rain.

The old house had seen better days. Paint was chipping off the sides, wood rot setting in, and sure enough the front window was smashed out again. Thomas let out a long sigh from the corner of his mouth. "Another day in paradise." Standing on end, stuck out of the ground was a sharp kitchen knife surrounded by broken glass.

It didn't take more then a moment to hide the knife away in his boot, keep it from getting swiped by some kid.

Sat on the front porch of their house curled up with her Chica plush was a little girl in a dark purple dress rocking quietly and trying to ignore the screaming from inside. She wasn't allowed outside without long sleeves. It kept the neighbors from asking too many questions.

Next to her an old bloodhound sat head in his paws doing its best to comfort her. Those worn down brown eyes shifting over towards Thomas a soft whimper escaping his muzzle.

At first Thomas tried to ignore it, just get to his car and drive. That wristwatch told him he was already cutting it close. Thanks to that old beagle he only made it about half way to the jalopy, before turning right back around.

His face softened as he strolled over, hand dipping into the pocket of his security jacket. "Now come on Susie, I know you're not out here crying." He leaned in low bending his knees while trying to put on a reassuring smile. The smile faltered on his face as he lowered a single hand onto her shoulder.

"Just another year of this and I'll get us both out of here." His eyes darted unable to quite match with hers as he spoke, voice just shy of cracking.

Thomas put his arms around his little sister, brought her in tight, and lifted her off the ground. Stood in the shadows of the wrap around porch she sat her head down against his shoulder clutching onto him. He lightly bounced her lightly in place. The music from upstairs, and the screaming indoors fading even as someone kicked in the door of his room. Where it once was he filled the void with soft singing, eyes closed, tough facade barely avoiding collapse.

After a while Susie drifted off slowly to sleep, and Thomas made his way to the porch swing. Setting her down onto the wood swing he took his jacket off, and wrapped it around her to keep warm.

"Just a little bit longer sis, just a little longer."

This house, this job, this family, they were killing him. It was a slow death, like a frog in a pot. It was the kind of thing you didn't really notice till it was too late. The problem was Thomas had noticed a long while back, he just couldn't manage to hop up off the stove.

A quick glance shared with the old beagle. "Hey Sarge, you old bastard" A quick lean down as he sat on the far edge of the swing kicking it back and fourth, just slightly enough for a comfortable rocking motion. He scratched behind the old dogs ears watching that back leg kick firmly against the warped porch.

"Keep an eye on her, make sure nothing happens while I'm at work." Sarge's tongue lolled out the side of his muzzel as he leaned firmly into the scratching. "I aint gonna come home and find out you were sleeping all day."

That pause in the affection caused the overweight beagle to look up into Thomas' eyes. "You keep her safe, and I'll have a big ol steak waiting for you." Those eyes brightening right up a smile crossing the muzzle.

One last pat fell onto the ol pups head before the young man pushed himself to a stand, moving quickly and quietly to try and not draw too much attention.

Thomas made his way down the yard stepping over a strange mound in the front yard, the dirt had already started to turn to mud. There wasn't any time to think about it, he was running late already. He just had to hope Bill wouldn't mind too much.

Pulling out his keys the young man practically skid to a halt on the wet gras, shoulders dropped and the smirk wiped right off his face. "Of course." An arm thrown up and then back down at his side, pointing to a long scratch ran down the roached Fairlane left in the driveway. It was three long scratches ran down the side of the car, like a bear or something of roughly the same size.

"Yeah very funny." He called out to the cul-de-sac, as if someone would step out and claim the damage. "Really got me good," Anger filling up as the rain fell down from the sky. "You know at least I tried to be the bigger person about the whole thing!"

A single hand slammed down onto the hood of his car a quiet expletive escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair slicking it down in the process. His head shook to either side before he threw himself into the drivers seat, slamming the door shut behind him. The drivers side window rattled in place, a crack forming in the glass. In the moment all he could do is set in the drive way and laugh, his head put down into his hands.

"Jessica" Spoken with a sigh as the key turned in the ignition, first time it died, the second it sputtered out then died again. By the third it finally groaned to life the car rattling slightly as he pulled his way down the drive, looking out through the main window.

Thomas just pretended not to even see him. It wasn't long before the house vanished off into the distance and out ahead it was just him, that rust bucket, and the open road. That whole car rattled about as if it was going to fall apart on the road, the only things holding it together ducktape and hope.

A light thump of his fist landed on the dash, the lights of that old radio flickered for just a moment before fading. A harder slam and they stuck on for just a moment longer. Finally he struck it with enough force it was a wonder he didn't dent the dash, and the lights whirred to life, and top 40 blared out over the airwaves.

"Stupid piece a..." He grumbled, as a voice came over the radio his hand drifted away from the nob while he focused on driving. They were talking about the weather, blathering on about more rain. "Yeah, that's what I need." He shook his head again traffic as bad as ever.

When he finally arrived he was over half an hour late. Though the clock on the car stopped working long before he'd even bought it he could always rely on his field watch. As he drove closer down the open streets of the big city something caught his attention.

"What the..." Thomas said leaning back slightly on the leather seat. His expression was one of shock as he pulled up into his parking spot to the side of the restaurant right next to the dumpster. People were moving in and out of the building in jumpsuits carrying out the old equipment and bringing in the brand spanking new.

Bill stood out in the rain, strutting like a peacock and shouting orders. He oversaw the whole process with a black umbrella clutched in one hand waving it about as if it were his conductors baton. The man oozed confidence in all the wrong ways.

They'd torn down the old sign over the weekend. In its place was a fancy new light-up sign with bright lights and bold colors. It was the kind of thing that screamed of its time, pastels and neons abound, too complicated for its own good.

"Chica's Party World, the happiest place on earth." Thomas said in a skeptical voice stepping out of the beat up car one hand still sat down onto the roof. "Can't say I'm a fan of the new design." The engine only idling for a short while before sputtering back to silence before he could even shut off the ignition.

"Tommy boy, old sport!" The rotund Bill called over turning on the balls of his heels. His accent was thick to the point of being hard to understand. "Thought you fell in you took so long." A wide smile from one ear to the other as he clasped a firm hand onto Thomas' shoulder strong enough to make it completely uncomfortable.

"I was about to get your parole officer on the horn, and ask him if you skipped town on us."

"Well, you know how traffic gets." Thomas placed his hands deep inside the pockets of his uniform pants, a flat expression on his face. "One minute it's clear the next you're stuck going an hour a mile." His fist clenching slightly in place even as he put on a friendly smile at his own joke. "Mind telling me what's happening round here?" A point over his shoulder to the new sign and a look given to the strange men wandering in and out of the building.

"Change ol sport, change is what's going on." A bright smile crossing his face a phony friendly facade that covered the true man beneath. "Boys upstairs decided it was time for a face lift, make the ol girl a little more appealing to the kids."

"This mean we're finally ditching the suits?" Thomas asked, a slim ray of hope that he wouldn't have to put on that chicken costume any time soon. "I mean don't get me wrong I love hopping inside a shambling death-trap as much as the next guy," A sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips as he gesticulated.

"I'll never understand what you have against those suits, ol sport." Disappointment hanging heavily in the mans voice as he spoke."They're perfectly safe as long as you don't get them wet" A pregnant pause in the conversation hung in the air, far longer than it was welcome as Bill directed about his workers like some grand dictator in charge of the world.

"I don't know, Tommy boy, sometimes I wonder how a chicken like you ever made it in the core." He shook his head. "Can't handle a few springs diggin in here or there, leave a scar or two." Motioning around his chest area."Second the V.C. started shooting I bet my arm you'd be off running back to your mommy for hugs and kisses."

That fist tightened harder, to the point his nails began to dig into his hand. Yet his face remained calm and friendly towards his boss. He even let out a light chuckle at the fun joke. "Look, all I'm saying is: They aint exactly the most OSHA friendly invention on the planet." He wasn't even thinking about the rain slicking down his uniform anymore, just how much he'd love to send his fist straight into that smug grin. "I'd feel better if we retired the damn things before someone gets hurt."

"The suits stay." Bill was adamant on the issue as he ever was. "Ol sport, let me educate you a bit on how business works." A high and mighty attitude sinking in. "See the customer pays to see Chica wandering around in there, waitin tables singing songs, and cracking jokes." That hand patting lightly on Thomas' shoulder as Bill spoke down to him. "We don't have her wandering around, we don't make money."

"Same goes if those kids see her lips aren't moving when you're in there playing them prerecorded clips." A faux compassion on his features. "The company isn't about to waste the money we pumped into getting them built." There was a lull in his speech as he peered right through Thomas for a long moment. "Especially after all these fancy new upgrades we're getting as part of the upcoming merger."

"You'll just have to learn to live with it, or" Another long almost painful pause. "Or you can find a different place in town willing to hire a felon."

Thomas took in a deep breath, moving his way past Bill and his charming personality. Soon as he was out of view near the entrance of the building he finally unclenched his fist, watching the indents in his skin slowly fill back in as he pushed the door to one side.

How much could really change in a single weekend?

 

 

 


	2. Always progressing

**T** homas walked through the halls of the pizza place, his expression one of reserved disgust. "Ugh man, who designed this place?" As he ran a hand across the neon wallpaper, all manner of shapes splattered haphazardly across a white background. Everything might have been brand new, but there was no accounting for taste.

 

Without the constant blare of the arcades or screams of children the place felt almost peaceful. He didn't like it, not one bit. Quiet never lasted. Usually it was only a calm before an inevitable storm.

 

"Well hey there sourpuss." A chipper voice called from behind the counter, the woman was technically in uniform, but it was hard to tell through all the buttons she'd plastered across it. An entire sachet coated in buttons, pins, of all shapes and sizes. "Aughta find you a way to turn that frown there upside down!"

 

Emily leaned over the counter dragging Thomas in for a big hug, bubbly and cheerful as ever. All he could do was let out a sigh, blowing some of the red hair out of the way with a puff of air so he could actually see. He was determined to stay miserable, but in spite of himself that almost angry sigh turned into a bit of a chuckle. It was hard to stay mad when you had someone that genuine around.

 

“Be happier if the place didn't look like something Picaso threw up.” Which managed to get him a punch in the shoulder from his co-worker.

 

“I swear Tommy, you haven't changed since highschool.” Pushing back from him to stand behind the counter. “Now I'm going to have that image stuck in my head.” Folding her arms one over the other she lifted them slightly before slamming them back down with a light huff, and a fake frown.

 

“You're not about to set there and tell me this redesign is anything but terrible.” Thomas said leaning on the prize counter, only now noticing the slew of new arcade games all around. “The old design had class, style.”

 

She gave him a long, skeptical look.

 

“Alright as much style and class as a kids restaurant could have.” A single hand motioning in the air. “Point is: the old place always screamed out: 'sure you take your kids here, but there's no reason you can't kick back with a drink, and a smoke while your kid's laughing at the dancing bird',” He shrugged his shoulders a slight glance towards one of the candy bars inside of the prize counter.”Bill's just never understood that.”

 

There was a pause, before she spoke again. “I mean you're not wrong.” She pulled open the prize counter door pulling out one of the many bars of chocolate. “but change isn't always a bad thing Tom,” She passed it over watching him flick it round in his hands like it was some sort of knife. “Sometimes if you want to keep the doors open on a place it has to adapt to the times.”

 

Thomas shoved his hands deep into his pockets taking a good hard look at one of the nearby arcade machines. “Gramps never needed to adapt, and when he ran the place we always had plenty of people.” Midnight Motorist looked like it'd be a fun way to waste some time, just kick back and race some cars.

 

“Oh, Tom, my brother tell you the good news yet?” Emily asked with a smile only partially held back bouncing on the spot ready to practically shout it out, as she fiddled with a Chica pillow.

 

“Uh, let me think I got this.” Tapping the bottom of his chin, as for a moment something caught the corner of his eye. It was little more then a shadow a brief shimmer coming out of the back room. He watched it move around the far side of the place. ”He's finally decided flinging himself off of perfectly good buildings for fun is a bad idea?” His voice was distracted as he tried to figure out what it was. There was something about it his eyes refused to focus on, like it was only half there as it made its way along. For a second he could swear he saw a set of purple eyes glaring at him.

 

“No!” She reached over smacking Tom in the back of the head firmly with the pillow, a few feathers falling out on impact.

 

Thomas closed his s the pillow made impact sending dust flowing out into the air and a few feathers onto his shoulders. “Pfft, blegh.” Normally he would have been able to snag the arm before the pillow made impact, but he was laser focused on that thing wandering the restaurant. Hands up to the sides of his head trying to knock off the dust and feathers, but once he was actually able to see that thing was gone.

 

“Besides, as if you throwing yourself out of planes is any better.” A low harrumph given yet again.

 

“Three things.” He was still a slight bit out of it, looking at that thing made his head pound and ache. “One” A single finger was held up. “It was my job” a pause “Two” then a second “I don't do it anymore” and up came the third one. “And three, I mostly jumped out of helos”

 

She just carried on ignoring him save for a quick roll of the eyes. “As part of the new buyout we're getting promoted to head entertainers over at the other branch.”

 

Emily smiled shaking her shoulders up and down bouncing on the spot. “You are looking at the new Bonnie!” Jumping a slight bit with a bright smile of pure white teeth her brilliant red hair falling right back down to her shoulders.

 

“Well look at you Ems, moving up in the world,” He only really flashed a bit of a nervous smirk. It was difficult for him to keep his cool. He was seeing things again, the shell-shock was getting to him. “Place isn't going to be the same without you.” A light chuckling sigh as he tried to keep himself grounded pushing out the insanity creeping in.

 

She leaned over the table again giving him another big almost ribcrushing hug. He didn't return the favor, still a bit lost in his own thoughts as he looked off several miles doing his best to recenter.

 

Even though he'd said it himself the facts to a little bit to set in. If he was honest with himself Thomas couldn't even begin to imagine what the place would be without her bounding around everywhere like some sort of hyperactive rabbit. In that sense he had to agree she'd make a decent Bonnie. Didn't hurt she could already do the voice justice.

 

Tom pushed himself up out of the hug slapping his hands together in front of himself. “Welp.” Another crash landing between his palms

 

“Much as I could sit here and talk all day, about how my best friend's decided it's cool to leave me all alone and play dressup” A lone thumb was shoved over his shoulder. “I gotta head to the back and toss on that chicken suit before the kids show.” He rolled his shoulders with a low groan. “I had my way we'd just decommission the death-traps already.”

 

In the distance he could hear automatic gunfire, explosions going off. Yet the war wasn't outside the restaurant, it was all inside his head, and he knew that. He'd been dealing with it for a while now.

 

“So you keep saying every morning.” Emily laughed as she clicked her tongue several times against the roof of her mouth while shaking her head. “I don't get why you're so paranoid, the suits never gave me or Paul any trouble.”

 

“Yeah but the thing is Ems, as I keep reminding you.” A long pause as he walked over to the prize counter once more. “Your brothers a psycopath, who thinks terror's the best medicine.” Smirking even as he was already walking off towards the back room.

 

“Says the convict.”

 

“Ex-con.” Tom called over traveling backwards barely paying attention to where he was going. He pointed back towards her as he moved each word getting its own finger waggle for added emphasis. “I'll have you know I'm a perfectly functional member of societ-oof” He managed to back into something, and by the time he noticed it had already hit the ground with a thud.

 

Spinning on the balls of his heels Thomas looked back to see what had happened. Instead of a gumball machine or arcade cabinet he saw a person on the ground in a maintenance uniform. Scrawny fellow, the clothes draped over him were too big, they hung on him loose like a kid wearing his dads Halloween costume.

 

“Sorry about that man, should have watched where I was going.” Apologetic in his tone as he spoke a single hand reaching down to help him up.

 

For a moment it didn't look like the maintenance guy would take it, a look of resentment behind those baby blues. In the end though he still snagged hold and was taken right back to a stand.

 

“Yeah.” That was all man said before shoving his way past Thomas.

 

It was strange, Thomas thought he knew everyone who worked there. It was weird there was someone walking around he hadn't at least bumped into prior. For a long moment he racked his brain trying to think if he could remember who the strange man was, before settling on the fact he must have been a new hire.

 

While he took the time to himself his attention drifted back over towards the large poster board near the side of the main entertainment room. At the top in big bold letters it read 'have you seen me'. He knew what was supposed to be there, pictures of kids who'd vanished from around town, but all he saw when he looked at the black and white photos were dead soldiers. “Swear every day the list gets longer.” Sadness backing his voice. “Wonder where they all go.”

 

Thomas shook his head, walking back towards the back room, clearing his mind of the whole thing. What helped in this was that he spotted something he could complain about, and that was one of his hobbies.

 

“Of course,” He started first looking at the broken fire alarm, and then to the small handle left on the ground. “You spend unholy money fixing the place but can't be bothered to buy a new fire alarm.” Kneeling down he picked the old handle off the ground where it'd fallen to, except something was off it didn't look like age had done it, instead there were jagged marks where someone had broken it off the wall.

 

Entering the almost pitch black back room where the suits where kept felt like entering a crypt. The walls were plain cinder block the only decoration a faded poster for the old business. A musty smell hung in the air they could never quite figure out how to get out.

 

It was a claustrophobic place crammed full of spare parts for the suits. Cold dead glassy eyes looked at him from every angle watching with silent judgment. Their mouths were slack jawed, and there was barely enough room to move let alone get changed.

 

The entire time he'd been here no one had bothered to clean up the old room. Every time something broke it was just pulled apart and shoved back here for maintenance to try and fix. Not that they ever could. He just sat the handle down in one of the few open spots and took a moment out to scribble a quick sticky note. “fix me” That would do it.

 

“Now comes the fun part” Thomas said quietly as he reached for the light-switch at the back of the room. One of the suits was missing from its usual spot. As the lights softly flickered in place the low hum of the bulb filled the room.

 

Blinking a few times it took him a moment to adjust the low hum digging at the back of his brain like nails on a chalkboard. There was an empty spot on the ground where the spare suit once stood.“Wonder where the backup wound up getting to?” Standing right in the spot where it was he looked about trying to make sure that it just didn't get moved to a different spot in the junk filled room.”Maybe bill just finally sold it o-”

 

Stopping mid sentence he could finally take in the room in more detail. His shoulders slumped down and his jaw partially opened. “Really?” A low breath of air sent through gritted teeth. He walked over to one of the spare heads and ran his hand down the fur covered surface.

 

“Chica, what did they do to you?” Moving the jaw up and down several times listening to it squeak in the process. “Teeth?” He paused for a long moment running his finger along the surface of the Chiclet like pearly whites.“The hell's a chicken need them for?” Hand moving down to the chest region to flit around with the plastic bib. “Things supposed to be a mascot for Pete's sake.”

 

“Hell are you thinking bill?” Said to himself in a quiet voice, as he lifted the plastic bib on the chest of the new suit allowing the mouth to fall back to the side on the head. “Damn kids'll run for the hills when they see this.” Allowing the plastic to fall back into place. “As if we didn't have enough trouble bringing people in already.”

 

The process of entering the suit was almost as uncomfortable and potentially dangerous as wearing it. Each instruction had to be carried with precision and care lest the suit snap back into display mode and harpoon him. He went through the inspection checklist one step at a time the entire process took a little over half an hour to do properly. Springs slowly shifted out of place as the entire suit slid open to one side allowing him to step into it.

 

Scars from the last time the suit had a minor malfunction still stung at his flesh even as he move into place. He could remember the screaming, it echoed in his heads and for a moment he could still see the terrified faces of the children watching as 'chica' fell to the ground.

 

That suit was hot, and cramped as ever, like wearing a hundred pounds of matted fur shoved over a steel mill. It swung shut the springs decompressing back into place allowing a little over a centimeter of space between his body and the springs. Once upon a time this was a two man job, but the wonders of modern technology meant they didn't need to waste the money anymore, or rather they couldn't afford to with recent cuts.

 

Slowly he flexed each finger one after another checking and testing to make sure everything still worked how he remembered it. He could feel the springs pressing up against his skin, wound tightly into place they tugged at his uniform. Each motion rang through his ears the fear building in the back of his mind that this may just be a repeat of that prior incident.

 

Once he was sure everything was how it should be he reached that feather covered hand up to the shelf covered in heads. The thing was heavy, and it stunk worse then the room around. Something about the design just attracted that mildew smell that wouldn't come out no mater how much air freshener he sprayed on it.

 

Methodically his hands lowered the head onto his own dropping it into place with the greatest of care and trepidation. For the first time in a short while he let out a sigh of relief as the helmet latched into place and he was plunged into the darkness.

 

“So far, so good.” Looking through the eyes of this suit was like putting your face through a pair of binoculars. Any and all peripheral vision was gone, little pinpricks in the iris of the suit gave the only real light he could hope for as he took that first thumping step against the tiled floor.

 

Cautiously he turned looking at the mirror. A full stop on the spot allowed him to see himself for the first time in the new suit. It sent shivers down the back of his spine.

 

“You know Bill, you did such a good job on the redesign this time round, but I think we can do better.” He lightly flapped the wings watching how they moved. “How about next time we just hire Giger?”

 

It was almost mesmerizing how smooth they could move when you had a person inside the suit.

 

“I mean if the main mission is to terrorize children we should ask the master.”

 

He backed up against the wall, trying to get at just the right angle to flick a small switch on the back of the suit. After some doing it finally clicked.

 

“Check one, check check” He spoke, the mouth of the suit moving with each syllable as if the suit itself were speaking.

 

It was a simplistic motion, jerky and erratic but it was a damn fine improvement over the old suit they had when he left for the weekend. The unit itself was taking care of the puppeteering he'd needed to manually take care of prior.

 

“If only the damn thing actually matched the syllables proper.” He started forcing his mouth to make wider motions trying to figure a way to get the system to register more accurately. “Maybe someday.”

 

Outside in the restaurant he could hear the sound of footsteps running about. Children shouting and laughing filled his ears even if it was still partially muffled. “Well Chica, looks like showtime.” A slight push of a button was all it took for the prerecorded voice to bubble up from the suits speaker.

 

“ **Let's party!** ” That cheery and friendly voice declared to the empty room voice echoing and bounding.

 

The memories associated with that call brought almost debilitating pain to the base of Thomas' stomach as he walked forward. His face was contorted into a grimace his eyes falling down onto the hand of his suit. Still his motions were bouncy and happy, the show was on and like it or not he was the star.

 

“Couldn't have changed the voice could you?” Spoken softly under his breath, the mental wounds still a bit fresh. Eyes closed for a long moment. “Of course not.”

 

Moving up to that imposing wall of metal which was the door he pressed a hand up against it and the room was slowly bathed in bright almost clinical light from the outside room. The laughter and joy of a few dozen children echoed out in his ears.

 

“Well Chica it's gonna be a long shift.” As he threw the door open the rest of the way. “ _Let's party_.”

 


	3. Visitation hours

Sleep was never a guaranteed thing at the house. Having even six hours uninterrupted was too much to ask most nights, even when her parents would stop fighting. Somehow, Susie had managed to get enough sleep in one go for the sun to have already long since vanished behind the houses with their picket fences.

 

A loud barking outside was enough for her to slowly set up out of bed bleary eyed. From the sounds Sarge was going ballistic out on the front lawn. Something had him spooked to the point he was yowling enough to wake the dead.

 

She wasn't sure who'd managed to drag her back into the house and up to bed, but she didn't mind. Slowly she pushed aside her small pile of plush friends that were encircling her. For the most part they were the best friends she had.

 

She looked around the room trying to look for Sarge. “Come on Sarge, quiet down, you know what happens if you wake up mom and dad.” Her voice filled with a genuine sense of worry for the old pups state of physical health. “I don't know if you can handle another trip down the stairs.” Expression filled with a distraught anguish as she finally sat up in the bed

 

One after the other her feet slipped into a pair bright yellow chica slippers which clashed with her deep purple night gown. She didn't remember putting it on either but she wasn't about to start complaining. As she stood up she realized that the barking wasn't coming from inside, her parents had locked poor sarge outside in the rain. “No wonder he's barking.” She quietly made her way out to the window still wiping the sleep from her eyes.

 

At first glance nothing seemed too strange, just the old beagle stood at the edge of the porch barking away into the rain while getting absolutely soaked. It never sat well with her how poorly they tended to treat that dog, but then again they didn't get much better from their parents.

 

“Don't worry Sarge, I'll let you back in, and you can sleep on my bed.” She assured him with a halfhearted smile.

 

Dim bulbs in the porch lights barely provided enough light to see the dog let alone whatever it was he decided to bark at. There might have been something out in the dark but with the streetlights out there wasn't much chance of her actually being able to catch a glimpse of it. Point still stood it didn't matter what he was barking at just that she got him to stop before her parents woke up.

 

Pushing herself off of the window Susie made her way out of her room pushing the door open as softly as she could trying her best not to wake them herself. Downstairs she could hear the TV softly playing bounding off of the walls. It was the only real sound that managed to pierce the night other then the creaking of floorboards as she made her way downstairs, and the loud snoring of her mother.

 

The grandfather clock ticked away softly echoing into the darkness as she walked by faded portraits hanging against the walls of times when her family had been happier. All the good memories stopped when grandpa died. As she hit the ground floor, passing by one of the many windows there was a moment she felt something watching her from the other side.

 

There was a looming presence something that didn't sit right with the primal parts of her brain, not enough to trigger flight or fight just enough to put her on edge. Looking out the windows all she could see was darkness. No menacing figure no great monster looming in the night, just a quiet night in the cul-de-sac.

 

Thomas' jacket remained wrapped around her tightly as she entered the living room with trepidation. In a lot of ways it was a bit of a security blanket, she had a hard time feeling scared with it draped over her shoulders like an oversize black pancho. Even though she knew full well what kind of punishment there was waiting for both her and Sarge if she wound up waking her parents from their booze induced slumber in front of the antiquated television.

 

Her parents were fast asleep in spite of the barking outside. Trash littered the dark blue carpeting, beer cans, popcorn bags, things she didn't even want to start thinking about what they might be. She knew there'd need to be a cleanup effort by her before she could go back to bed if she wanted to avoid an accident, but at the same time she had to make sure Sarge was alright.

 

The door creaked open slowly on its rusted hinges. It was barely held in place as it swung fully open clattering against exterior wall. In the process it let out a soft kathunk knocking several chips of paint down to the ground.

 

The rain was heavy allowing for minimal visibility in any direction, pouring down as it had been all day. This was the kind of weather she'd honestly come to expect from this town, and it wasn't that surprising or even scary. It was just another fact of life for her.

 

Peering out into the darkness she quietly spoke. “Come on sarge, time to head in.” She was still tired, but offered the old pup a smile stepping down onto the warped boards. “You know what happens when you bark too much.”

 

Each step caused the planks of that old porch to slowly creak and moan into the night as she moved. She paused, for just an instance she thought she could hear a voice on the breeze. “Tom?” She asked the darkness. “If that's you this isn't funny.” A chill run down the back of her spine as she knelt down beside the portly beagle.

 

At first looking out into the inky black of night she couldn't see a thing. It was just an empty yard with a strange hole dug out into the ground. “That's new,” She started. “Sarge, you know you're not supposed to put holes in the yard.” She joked. The hole was almost six foot long and three foot wide. It was huge, and she honestly couldn't begin to think why her parents might have had it made.

 

It was a soft dragging sound, of plastic on dirt that finally drew her attention to the source of the commotion. There was certainly something out there, and now as her eyes adjusted to the night she could finally almost make it out. Though looking at it made her head hurt, it gave her the strangest headache.

 

Down by the road near the end of the driveway something lurked in the darkness, a shadow.

Even hunched over, the silhouette seemed to completely dwarf her. There was no easy way to get a good look at it, but it appeared to be dragging something behind itself like a teddy bear clutched in its grasp. Something about even focusing on it was difficult, like her mind was fighting her just to keep focused.

 

Whatever it was carrying was heavy, and struggling. A soft dragging sound in the rain followed by the thunk of footsteps in the dark. She held the elderly dog close in her arms for protection, though she wasn't sure if she was protecting sarge or the other way around.

 

Sarge was laser focused on that thing in the yard. Soft brown eyes hardened and teeth barred as menacingly as he could practically ready to strike and leap right out of Susie's hands.

 

She slowly came back to a stand backing away as quietly as she could hoping not to disturb whatever that thing was taking a shortcut through their yard. Yet as she backed up the already soaking wet beagle shifted in her grasp. “No Sarge, come on we have to get inside.” In a hushed voice trying not to draw unwanted attention from the thing.

 

Sarge wiggled and writhed in her hands slipping free and down to the ground. His belly flopped onto the planks with a light thud as his legs sprawled out to either side. For an instant he just lay there shaking his head but soon as Susie knelt down to pick him up he bolted.

 

Those tiny legs pittered and pattered against the sopping wet grass. He was running fast as his doggy legs could carry eyes laser focused on that thing invading his territory. The portly pup pounced high into the air going for the throat best that he could, but all he could manage to snag inside his jaws was an arm.

 

The shadow shifted on the spot looking down to the small dog now hanging with teeth dug into place. It jerked and shook in the dark trying to get it off as teeth dug deeper and deeper still into the arm as it shook up and down. Sarge kept growling even with a mouth full of the thing trying to defend his homestead.

 

Susie ran down the steps and out into the yard herself. Her little slippers were already soaking wet from the moment she touched grass, but she didn't care. Sarge was the only thing their grandfather had ever given her, and she wasn't about to let some big bad monster hurt him.

 

“You let go of him right now!” She screamed out best she could stomping her foot down into the mud and holding her ground against the massive beast.

 

Finally it turned its full attention towards her. In the dark she still couldn't make out the details, all she could see was a pair of bright purple eyes looking not just at her but through her with a look she'd never be able to forget. In an instant her bravado was gone, face gone pale.

 

With one last mighty flick of a fur covered arm, the beast sent sarge flying right into Susie's hands knocking her down into the cold rain. She splashed into the mud, her nighty all but completely ruined from impact.

 

It slowly turned to face her walking in the rain with a slow but dogged determination as it continued to drag the sack behind itself.

 

Susie clutched Sarge close to herself as she could closing her eyes as tightly as they would go together. Though she knew it wouldn't do much she held her hand up in front of her face trying to keep the thing away.

 

She couldn't move, and could hardly speak from fear. Instead of flight or fight her body just started to shut down she was frozen on the spot. Her lip trembled and she felt the rain splattering across her features.

 

It took all of the strength she had just to speak up barely above a whisper.

 

“I don't want to die.”

 

 


End file.
